fied at the gross insult I had offered her while
seeking to overcome her resistance, that I began to devise all manner of
impossible plans for righting the wrongs I had done, and restoring her
peace of mind.

The only one which seemed beyond my powers was to tear myself away from
her; for while these feelings of esteem and respect were springing up in
me, my love was changing its nature, so to speak, and growing vaster and
taking possession of all my being. Edmee appeared to me in a new light.
She was no longer the lovely girl whose presence stirred a tumult in my
senses; she was a young man of my own age, beautiful as a seraph, proud,
courageous, inflexible in honour, generous, capable of that sublime
friendship which once bound together brothers in arms, but with no
passionate love except for Deity, like the paladins of old, who, braving
a thousand dangers, marched to the Holy Land under their golden armour.

From this hour I felt my love descending from the wild storms of the
brain into the healthy regions of the heart. Devotion seemed no longer
an enigma to me. I resolved that on the very next morning I would give
proof of my submission and affection. It was quite late when I returned
to the chateau, tired out, dying of hunger, and exhausted by the
emotions I had experienced. I entered the pantry, found a piece of
bread, and began eating it, all moist with my tears. I was leaning
against the stove in the dime light of a lamp that was almost out, when
I suddenly saw Edmee enter. She took a few cherries from a chest and
slowly approached the stove, pale and deep in thought. On seeing me she
uttered a cry and let the cherries fall.

"Edmee," I said, "I implore you never to be afraid of me again. That is
all I can say now; for I do not know how to explain myself; and yet I
had resolved to say many things."

"You must tell me them some other time, cousin," she answered, trying to
smile.

But she was unable to disguise the fear she felt at finding herself
alone with me.

I did not try to detain her. I felt deeply pained and humiliated at her
distrust of me, and I knew I had no right to complain. Yet never had any
man stood in greater need of a word of encouragement.

Just as she was going out of the room I broke down altogether, and burst
into tears, as on the previous night at the chapel window. Edmee stopped
on the threshold and hesitated a moment. Then, yielding to the kindly
impulses of her heart, she overcame